Caged Cell
by Creepy Lady
Summary: Pans parents died when she was young, ever since she has been keeping herself locked inside her mind, in a seperate world. Trunks comes in as a young pschiatrist, and tries to help... rating will change. r and r
1. torn

"It's time for school dear!"  
  
Videl called up the stairs to her young daughter.  
  
Pan slowly rose from her bed, she opened her eyes to the bright rays of sun shine, bleeding into her bedroom. When she looked at her side dresser, she noticed that her mother had already laid out and pressed her school uniform today. So getting up she slipped on the blue, black, material, and continued getting ready from school.  
  
Gohan and Videl were in the kitchen. The young, yet newly successful business man, Gohan, was quickly eating his breakfeast, Videl continued to set a place for Pan at the table.  
  
Gohan looked up as he saw his little girl come in to the kitchen. Her hair was a bit longer then her childish cut during the time when her Grandpa Goku was still alive. It was now a bit passed her ears, and tied in two pig tails. She looked so innocent, and Gohan almost felt reluctant to let her go, her first day of 2nd grade, she was getting older now.  
  
Videl smiled at Pan's appearance as she rushed over to help her daughter tieing the bow to her hair ties.  
  
"Goodmorning Pan, you ready for your first day of school?"  
  
"Mmm, hm!" she smiled cheerfully, as she gazed over to her father at the table, then to the food.  
She was a little girl, but she was still a saiyan.  
  
"Okay then." Videl continued. "Breakfeast first, then off to school."  
  
Pan giggled approvingly, and skipped over to her place at the table, across from Gohan.  
  
"Hi daddy!" she smiled over at her father.  
  
"Hi panny, excited?" he asked towards the notion of her first day of school.  
  
"Uh huh." but she brushed that aside and filled her plate with a stack of pancakes, food is more important then school.  
  
After she had finished breakfeast, she quickly rushed out the door,barely saying goodbyes. Gohan chuckled at her antics, as she hurried out, and off to school.  
  
She was already outside when she stopped, when she saw the flames, the fire had already started. It burned bright and deep, and before she could turn to get back in it had consumed them. The door was stuck, she couldn't get back in. She couldn't get back in to save her parents, she couldn't get back in to die there with them. It wouldn't let her.  
  
Then she remembered. It didn't happen like that...  
  
She was in there with them, the raging flames consuming them, she was scared, just a child. And she ran, she left them, and she ran, and kept running.   
  
The police found her, hours later. It seemed like days. She was soaked by the rain, her uniform damp and dirty with mud. She was so small clinging to herself in the back alley of a city, crying.  
  
She had left them there to die.  
  
It wasn't fair. IT WASN'T FAIR!  
  
@#$!@!@!@!@$!@$!!#@!%#@#@%@%@%@#@%@#@#@#@%!@#!@#!#@!#@!#@!#@!#@!#@!  
  
Pan shot up in bed from her sleep. And looked out in the window set on one side of her bed. She felt her face, dripping with sweat, her head felt heavy, her mouth dry.   
  
Two nurses dressed in white entered the room in a haste, bolting the door behind them, and rushed towards her. She confused could only ramble about the flames, and a small child, sitting in the rain. The nurses paid no mind, and inserted a needle into her arm. she let out a gasp, and tried to raise her arms. The other nurse caught them and held them to her side, as she struggled in her bed. blinded by the white lights illuminating the room. it was night, her eyes were used to darkness...  
  
but soon the lights became blurred, and soon they disappeared and in their place a door way was revealed.  
  
Large white doors, and painted on the high left side of one appeared a sigil underneath that stated : let your need guide your way.  
  
The doors cracked open, and in she stepped. A thin pale woman, with shoulder leangth black hair, and deep blue eyes. Her clothing had transformed, for she was wearing a more fit version of her childhood blue, black uniform. Though now in young adulthood it had altered in places.   
  
Looking down she found blood splattered across her skirt.  
  
'But reason lost is instinct gained  
my rage is loose,   
blood lust unchained  
my foes shall tremble when they see  
the darker side  
of little me.'  
  
Everything began spinning, the darkness consuming the land beyond the doors, the blood around the young woman. The distorted trees, the small criminal beings floating 'bout the land, members broken and hanging, blood flowing freely, the black white checkered floors. The man, the dark man with the knife, stalking my figure in darknes, the voices, loud, instrumental, all flowing through, inside, of, me....  
  
  
'Who am I?'  
  
'Who am I?'  
  
"Who AM I!?!?!"  
  
$#@#$@%#@!#@!#@!!#@!%@#!#@!#$@^$#^%#^@^#@^%$^%#$#$%^#^$##^$%#@#@#$%#^!@#$  
  
  
"Pan!" Astounded, the doctor rushed to her side, to comfort her from her ill state.  
  
"You are Son, Pan, thats who you are. It was a dream, you are still Son Pan."   
  
She slowly opened her eyes, to see the sunlight blaring through the large window. She turned her head to look at the doctor. The man in white, who had come to her every morning for what is seems, such a long time now.  
  
She looked around the room. It was empty. White walls, small tiled floor, a mesh of different variations of gray. The door, heavy steel, a key could be turned from the inside, there was a small window at the top. Then on the far side of the room, just before the large caged window was a single bed. And that was all, now excluding the new peice of furniture, the man in white.  
  
In his hand, he held a glass of water, and her medication for the day. She looked away from his hands to his eyes. Hs steel gray eyes, stern almost, yet kind.   
  
They remind me of no one I know. The remind of dying flowers covered in early snow.  
  
Cold...  
  
She stared blanky into his eyes, void of emotion, then she let the image go, and turned her head once more.  
  
Then looked to the window, staring out into the light, the bleeding into the empty room. She felt the man cup her chin, and a few small pills slipped passed her lips, she then felt cold glass pressured to her mouth, and another hand tilt her head back, and cold liquid entered.   
  
She swallowed, accepting the behavior alterations that would come. Afterwards the man in white held her face towards him, and made a motion for her to open her mouth.  
  
She did so, and after the man's approaval, he left her once more, into the empty thought that came on, as the medication took its effect.  
  
%$^%&$%$#$%$^%$%^#$$#@$#@$^%&*^&*%^#@#$@$%#%^&*^%%^*^*%$^%$%$^*$^%#$%#  
  
I was happy that the doctor had given me the opportunity to spend some time with Son Pan. It would be a great help to unnderstand her conditions. She had been suffering from hallucinatory episodes, delusions for some time now. 'Bouts of catatonia that would suddenly disappear, and symptoms of a paranoid schizotypal disorder. No doubt the onset was her traumatic experience as a child, having experienced the death of her parents, she never fully recovered.  
  
And I was lucky to have this chance to get to know her, to understand her. It would be one of my first hands on patient since the start of my third year at medical school. I was studying to be a psychiatrist, and just having graduated I was looking forward to more difficult cases.  
  
Son Pan, had been in this condition for some time now, and me being fairly new, just certified, I was lucky to have this chance. She was diagnosed. and considered to have no hope, her current doctors explicitly explained though, at times she would seem to have a grasp of some kind of reality. maybe not our own, but it showed that she still held intellectual abilities.  
  
Heading to her room, I felt a nervousness creep into me, a daughnting fear, it was the unknown. Or perhaps it was the anxiety of expection of what I thought was the unknown, building.  
  
My hand hovered above the handle to the cold, metal door. Shivered once then sternly took hold of it, and pushed.  
  
It was locked. Of course you idiot, how could you forget that?  
  
I fumbled to put my folders, and documentations under my arm, as I aimlessly felt through my pockets with my other hand, searching for the set of keys that was given to me by the Dr. Hiedegger.  
  
I found them, and continued to unlatch the door. Placing the key in the lock, turning until a faint click could be heard. I pushed open the door. And there she was.  
  
Maybe in her early twenties, I could always check her records, thin, and very pale, her dark hair came just a bit passed her shoulders. And she sat there, idly hunched over, with her arms hanging listlessly by her sides, palms up, starring out into the nothingness of white, that was her cage, her walls. The room seemed dark, yet somehow so strangely illuminated by the bright light coming in through the large window.   
  
She did not look at me as I entered, she just stared straight ahead with lazy eyes.   
  
As I moved closer I could see her face, so pale, there were dark circles underneath of her eys however. Her dark, deep blue eyes, that seemed almost black, and if not for the reflective light, I would have believed so. She looked so tired, but then I reasoned, perhaps that was from the hallucinations, or just the medications.  
  
I sat in a chair that had been placed before her bed. The only peice of furniture in the cell, not counting the pipe steel bed she sat on herself.   
  
I thought best to introduce myself, before we started.  
  
"Hello Son Pan, I am Trunks Breifs, and I will be spending quite a bit of time with you for the next couple of weeks." 


	2. broken

I thought about what I had just said. And wondered if she could even differenciate the difference between, hours and days, days and weeks. What use would it be to talk of such things, she was caged up from the world, from time. She lived in a place where it did not exist. Everything in her reality must have just bled together into one long span of events. Nothing to separate one thing from another...  
She turned slightly and looked at me, not at me I should say, not at my appearance, she skipped that. She just stared into my eyes, She didn't speak, I heard she was very anit-social, when she was removed from this cell, at certain times, when such a thing was common here, to associate with the other patients, she did not. She would sit in the corner alone, starring into the walls.  
  
So I decided to start things off.  
  
"How are you feeling today Son Pan?" I felt it better that we should still adress eachother formally, she might be offened otherwise.  
  
But she did not answer, she onyl looked down at her hands, which she had just folded over her lap. Then seemingly dismissed the thought and starred out of the window.  
  
Okay then thats not going to work.  
  
"Is there anything that you would like to talk about?" I asked hoping she would accept this as a place to enter in conversation. I wanted to get to the point, but I can't rush her.  
  
She still said nothing, and sat silently. and I thought, what could I ask her that she could have some recollection of that the medications had not taken from her mind.  
  
I looked down in thought, then remembered.  
  
"I heard that you have had trouble sleeping lately? Is there any particular reason why?"  
  
I heard her make a small noise, then repeated itself, she was still starring out the window when I understood her words.  
  
"sight"  
  
"Sight?" I repeated to myself. "What is it? You see things?"  
  
She made no expression, or no effort in the conversation. She lay back down, gripping her covers and starring out into the barred world.  
  
$@$%@#@%#@%#@#$@%@%$@#@%@%@$@%#@%@%#@@$^@$#@#@#$!$#@!@$#!#!#@!$  
A young man has started visting me. He is peculiar, and strange from the others doctors. Though he seems very intersted in me, always asking me questions about the underland, about Vincent, and Mr. Spock. He reminds me very much of Mr. Spock, dark, and alluring, yet somehow still, reserved, somehow still refined. He sets himself structures and bounds to play on, I know this is like a game to him, trying to see into my mind. He is naive in that way. They say I am mad, that all in underland is mad, but they are all mad here as well.  
  
#$!#@!#$@!$#@$#@$#@#@$#@$#@#$@$#@$#@$#@%#!#@!$#@!#@!$@!#@$!#@$!$@!$@!$@!$  
  
It has been some time since these visits with Pan had started. She hardly speaks, though when she does I can vouge myself that she still posses some intellectual abilities. Though she is a bit reserved to speak of many things. She has avoided much talk of underland, the world in which I learned has claimed her being in sleep. Sometimes in conscioussness as well she states. Sometimes she spends months there. Then I question what exactly a month in underland elates to in this reality.  
  
Sometimes I go in and all she does is stare out the window. Not speaking at all, just starring out into the nothing. She is sometimes standing in no particular corner of the room, looking into the chipped white paint on the walls. She seems dead sometimes. But of course that could still and again be the medications.  
  
When I went to Dr. Heidegger to ask what exactly they had been treating her with, he told me that I did not need to know this information, and so it was restricted from my knowledge.  
  
I worry about her sometimes. I know that she is not happy where ever she is.  
  
#@$!$#!#!$#!#@#@#$@%$@%$@#@%@#@%#@@%#@$@%@@%$#@$@%$@$%@%%$@#!#$$  
  
The white light cascaded through the room, the only light in the room, from the window. She seemed to glow, sitting right before that light, but at the same time she seemed so dark herself.  
  
She refused to have the electric lights on during the day, she said it wasn't real, and the nurses had all been told to be wary of using the electric lights, least they face an unhappy Pan.  
  
As I walked slowly into the room, she continued to stare ahead. Not glancing towards me at all, though I knew she was aware of my presence.  
  
She slowly rose from the bed, letting the single white sheet that had been corvering her fall to the ground, and be consumed in the darkness of the room.  
  
She stood standing still momentarily, her white bed gown was illuminated and played off of the clouded sunlight from outside. I can't remember coming to her on a day that wasn't cloudy...  
  
She began to slowly walk forward, still starring straight ahead. I looked on questioning, yet she still walked towards the wall, she rose her hand a bit. She seemed so frail, and her energy seemed severly lacking. Though still, she slightly graced her finger tips over the painted wall, she seemed to hold so much remorse, what was behind the wall, I knew that was what I needed to see through her eyes.  
  
"What's wrong Pan?" Having taken my usual seat, I had prepared myself for another one of our seesions here.  
  
"My parents...."  
  
She began slightly whispered, she seemed in awe. Her hand still lightly placed on the wall.  
  
"...are gone."  
  
she said a bit more firmly, I decided to pry a bit further, I needed to know what she saw.  
  
"What else is wrong Pan?"  
  
"Something's....broken."  
  
It wasn't a question, I was sure, it was a statement.  
  
"What's broken Pan?"  
  
She let her hand drop from the wall, releasing it from her light, soft touch. Letting her hand fall to her side, she still looked ahead, blankly into the never ending white.  
  
"...I am."  
  
$$%@$@$#@#@!#!@!#@!#$@$##^%$^%#$#@@!$!$#@$%#%##$!$#@@$#%$^%#$@$#$%#^%#$  
  
The sound of violins echoed through the land. The dark wavering of black trees, red skies, and dark purple roads.  
  
The thin, dark hared woman made her way down, a twisting path. Red, black trees merged from the sideways of this path.Hanging from them, the leaves, long and flowing like bright red ribbons, leafy and tattered at the ends. They swung with the wind as Pan passed many and many on her walk.  
  
What's this? feel's so cold?  
  
I looked down at my hands, for they suddenyl felt heavy and wet.  
  
Shocked myself, I noticed the red fluid dripping from them. Horrified almost, the blood, where did it come from?  
  
Purple smoke began to emerge from the flowing trees, and in a distance I could hear a harpsichorde join in with the violins.  
  
Blue Black birds, towered over me in the sky, twisting their long necks and sharp crane like heads about, as they circled above.  
  
I looked back down towards my hands, it's not my own blood...  
  
I raised it to my nose, perhaps I can smell it and then find where it had left it's owner.  
  
I noticed the sounds of drums begin, they seemed closer, the music now.   
  
And I could feel heat, suddenly, as if from a fire.  
  
Red winged carnal fearies passed through me. In they went and out like liquid, and left they did, a heated rage.  
  
The blood still smelled...human...and unchained this, the blood lust.  
  
I let my tongue drop from my mouth, and hang lightly onto my hand, and entered once the bitter sweet taste of sudden death, and not of my own.  
  
I don't fear death, sometimes I welcome it....  
  
"So she has aquired a taste for blood?" inquired the small subsequestern cat.  
  
I let my hand drop from my mouth, somehow trying to hide from the cat, what he had already saw. What red liquid was dripping from my own mouth, and showing quite obvious reason and explanation as to what carnal being I must be.  
  
The cat, lightly stepped with a certain yet subtle trot around me, and in front of my path, and smiled his wicked smile. His sharp, fanged teeth showing the yellow rot that he had nurtured through the years within himself. His face wrinkled and added age to his dry sagging skin, hanging so loosely from the thin bones that made his structure.  
I suddenly wondered if it had been my action that caused him to smile, or if there was another reason, I watched his eyes, and looked for some indication as to his presence.  
His yellow, slit eyes, darted quickly, once, to the ground, by my feet, then met my face once more, as I saw his smile spread further across his features I quickly felt a but uneasy.  
  
Looking down to the ground I noticed, snake like black chains, had risen from the hallowed ground and had slithered around my ankles. They began to tighten. Like thorns cutting into my skin, the chains slid into me.  
  
They encased my body, wrapping around, and I began to forget the slighted pain and discomfort of them, as I suddenly felt myself crack.  
I felt myself fall within my mind and reason, and I kept slipping. The chains grew tight to the ground, and began to pull me into the soil. Retracting slowly, I began to feel my body break.  
As if twisting the bones in this action, the chains still coiled.  
They, by now had grown warm againt my skin, if not for my own heat, from the heat of my blood. I could still see the cat standing before me, his wicked grin, placid on his face. His image blurred by the blood dripping on my brow. 


End file.
